Execute
by I.Love.Dick.Grayson
Summary: For the Dick/Babs week on tumblr. Will be updated all this week, unless I fall behind with the prompts. Prompt: snowstorm. Dick gets a little too excited over snow.
1. Beginnings

**AN: For the Execute (AKA the ship for Barbara/Dick) Week on tumblr. I'm not very good at romance, so sorry in advance :p**

**Dick and Barbara are both twenty in this, btw. The setting…let's have it be some tiny little café in Gotham, in autumn. **

**I'll be updating this all week! Unless I fall behind with the prompts...**

**~Zara**

* * *

_**Beginnings:**_

Civvies-clad Dick Grayson sits at the table right beside the window, uncovered blue eyes constantly jittering to the window to look at the busy street outside. An untouched coffee sits in front of him, steam rising from it in tendrils.

He's only been waiting for his yet-to-show-up companion for about ten minutes, but it feels like ten years. He's unconsciously clasping an unclasping his hands, legs contorting occasionally under the table in ways only an acrobat can manage unconsciously. He smooths his already-ironed sweater and pulls at the fraying threads of his jeans. Any observer could tell he's stressed.

He glances at the window again and his heart jumps into his throat as he spots a head of red hair that he'd recognize anywhere.

He closes his eyes as he hears the bell above the café's door jangle as it opens. Barbara Gordon slips into the chair in front of him, taking her black coat off to reveal a white blouse and draping it over the back of her chair.

Dick clears his throat, hand going up to brush his ebony bangs out of his eyes. He shifts uneasily, says, "Erm- hi."

She ignores him, instead smiling sweetly at the waiter that has just approached their table. She orders a skinny vanilla latte, just as she always has in the past.

The waiter leaves and then she turns to look at the boy- man, really, who she's known since she was nine. She still doesn't say anything.

He takes initiative; it's a leader thing. "Look, I- I know I have a lot of explaining to do about what I did. But- but Babs, you gotta understand, it was necessary-"

"Look, Dick," she says, leaning forward a bit. "What I _understand _is that you lied. To me. To the team. To everyone. I _understand_ that Kaldur wasn't really evil and Artemis isn't really dead."

"I- I know," Dick mutters, hand brushing his hair again; he's been doing that a lot of late. "I know it sounds bad. I- just let me explain, I-"

"Why do you think I'm here?" she says and he almost smiles at the hint of her usual snarkiness.

The waiter comes by with Barbara's drink and sets it down. She sprinkles a bit of cinnamon in, stirring the drink with a spoon. Her eyes are on him.

"Well?" she prompts. She's looking at him expectantly.

He breathes deeply and takes the plunge.

* * *

Three and a half hours and two refills of drinks later, he's done telling her everything. Absolutely everything: how and why Kaldur volunteered to go undercover, how they knew nothing about their enemy's motives, how one inside agent wasn't enough, how Artemis was the perfect candidate for joining Kaldur, plotting her 'death', him, Kaldur, Artemis, and Wally being the only ones in on it, everything.

His voice is hoarse with overuse by the end of it and Barbara's blue eyes are glistening. Whether with anger or sadness, he's not sure.

"Dick," she whispers, looking down and trying to meet his eyes; he's ducked his head, raven hair concealing his gaze. "Dick, why didn't you tell-?"

"Who?" he croaks, head shooting up. "Who else was I supposed to tell, Babs? The less people involved the better. I-"

"You could have told me," she whispers. "Or Bruce." She shakes her head, closing her eyes and biting her lip. "Anyone, Dick. You could've told anyone. You didn't have to be all alone."

"No," he mutters, trying to ignore the lump rising in his throat. "Anyone- anyone who was involved- their safety was jeopardized." His voice cracks at the end and he clenches his azure eyes shut. He tries to control his breathing.

"Dick," she murmurs, reaching out and covering his shaking hand with hers, "that- what happened wasn't your-"

"Kaldur's dead," he says hoarsely, tears escaping his eyes. "And it was completely my fault. I got him into-"

"I'm sorry, Dick," she says, voice changing to sound slightly scolding, "but you just told me that he volunteered for the job. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"I was leader, not him," he reminds her, angrily brushing his tears away. "It was my call and if I had- had told him no, he'd still be here."

"And the Reach would've won," she shoots back. "Kaldur's sacrifice wasn't in vain, Dick. Don't let that become false. We still need our leader, one who isn't haunted by what-ifs."

She takes a deep breath and leans forward again, tucking a curl of red hair behind her ear. She puts her hand over Dick's once more.

"Look, Dick," she says softly. She waits until he meets her gaze. "I- I'm willing to try again with you. From the beginning."

His heart does a somersault in his chest because he never thought he'd hear her say those words. And he can't describe how happy he is that she did.

Because he can't live without her. He's loved her ever since they were thirteen, since they were tiny and crushing on each other but too shy to acknowledge it.

Because his nightmares of snapping wires and screams used to be replaced with dreams of long red hair and soft whispers until she left him. Not that he blames her, of course. He was wrong to withhold so much information from her. Not exactly the basis for a good relationship.

Because after long nights consisting of arguing with Wally, discussing tactics with Kaldur and Artemis, and pretending to be Batman for Gotham, there's only one person whose company he craved.

Because he loves every bit of her. Her soft hair, her sweet eyes, her smarts, her wits, her independent attitude. And some tiny part of him says he doesn't deserve her.

"If," she says, bringing him back to the current situation, "you promise for no more secrets between us. Alright?"

"Yeah," he says, voice cracking. "Yeah, I promise."

And he hates himself for being so emotional, but more tears slide down his cheeks. He clenches Barbara's hand.

It's over. Artemis is back, safe and with Wally, living in Palo Alto. Kaldur sacrificed himself to save the team and stop the Reach. Bruce and the other Leaguers have returned, cleared of all charges.

And now, he has Barbara Gordon by his side again, despite how awful he'd been to her.

And all he can say is that he's finally feeling the aster.

* * *

**Oh my god I can't write romanceeeee. I'm sorry for the awkwardness. Also, I'm no good at plots. I do fluff, not plots ;)**

**If anyone has any tips on writing romance, I am all ears!**

**Hope you liked it! Please review!**

**~Zara**


	2. At the Gala

**AN:**

**Did this in about...half an hour? Sorry for any mistakes and I'm sorry it's so short. Hopefully tomorrow's will be longer.**

**Review please!**

**~Zara**

* * *

Nine-year-old Dick Grayson sat in the corner of Wayne Manor's courtyard, on the antique-looking bench. He tugged uncomfortably at the suit he was wearing; it was much too hot and itchy.

He sighed sadly, propping his chin in his hand as he gazed at the ongoing party in front of him. This was his first gala; Bruce had explained why he had to attend and how to act. He accepted the terms but that in no way meant he enjoyed the parties. It was all snobby rich people, fake smiles and faux kindness. He couldn't stand any of them.

Now, Dick started as he heard someone calling his name.

"Dick! Come hear a moment, would you?" It was Bruce.

Weaving his way through the throng of people, Dick went to stand beside his adoptive father. Bruce smiled and put a hand on the younger's shoulder. "Someone I'd like you to meet: Comissioner Gordon, a good friend of mine."

Dick smiled politely at the man standing in front of him. He had a kind face with crinkling blue eyes set behind glasses. "Hello, Mister Gordon."

"Hello, son. Dick Grayson, is it? Heard a lot about you. Have you met my daughter?" Gordon said, turning to look for his child. "Barbara, honey, come here!"

A redheaded girl appeared, a wide grin on her freckled face. She was wearing a white knee-length dress with her hair pulled back by barrettes. Her blue eyes seemed to shine.

"This is Dick Grayson, honey," Gordon said, putting a hand on his child's head. "You two are about the same age, I think. How old are you, son?"

"Nine," Dick said quietly, sneaking glances at the girl.

"Hi!" she said brightly, waving. "I'm nine too!"

"Isn't that wonderful?" Bruce smiled, gently shoving Dick forward a bit. "Why don't the two of you get acquainted? The commissioner and I were just on our way to the drinks table." The two adults left.

"Hi!" the girl said again, all chipper and happy. "I'm Barbara Gordon. I like math and ice cream."

"I'm Dick," Dick said shyly, kicking at the ground with one shoe. The girl stared at him.

"Well? What else?"

Dick looked confused. "What-?"

"Do you like math? Puppies? Ice cream?"

"Math…is okay, I guess," Dick said, shrugging. "And I- I've never had ice cream."

Barbara gasped loudly, jaw dropping open. "You've _never _had ice cream?"

Dick shook his head. It was true; back at the circus, they had never had ice cream.

"C'mon, I'll treat you to some!" Barbara said, grabbing Dick's hand and pulling him towards the dessert table.

And so it began.

* * *

Thirteen-year-old Dick Grayson plopped in front of his best friend. He was holding two porcelain bowls full of ice cream, careful not to get any on his suit jacket.

Barbara looked at him and then turned away, a pout set on her features. Dick cocked his head, pushing the bowl of blackberry ice cream towards her. "Something wrong, Barb?"

The girl still said nothing, instead popping a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, eyebrows pulled together in the middle.

Dick snickered, licking a bit of mint chip ice cream off his spoon. "Is this about the new girl?"

He laughed harder when Barbara still remained silent, almost spilling a bit of the dessert on his lap. "C'mon Babs, it was just a little friendliness!"

"Oh, is that what you call it?" Barbara snapped. Dick held up his hands.

"Whoa, there Babs, let's try to stay whelmed. I swear, I was just being nice," he said.

"Looked like you were chasing that skirt to me," Barbara said huffily, crossing her arms again.

Dick laughed again. "Is Miss Gordon jealous?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"She's too old for you," Barbara said, eating another spoon of ice cream.

Dick laughed even louder. "So you admit it!"

"Admit what?"

"That you're jealous!"

"Sheeya right, jealous? Of you?"

"Yes, me! Stunning, gorgeous, handsome, dashing- ow!"

"Shuddup, Grayson."

* * *

Nineteen-year-old Barbara Gordon sighed as she once again surveyed the crowd of partygoers for her best friend of ten years and boyfriend of four. How he managed to be late even when he _lived _at the Manor was a conundrum to her.

She smoothed her scarlet dress and looked up again. She smiled when she saw her significant other walking towards her. Noticing how his arms were held awkwardly behind his back, she frowned.

"Hey, Short Pants," she greeted, lips turned slightly downward. "What're you-?"

"Look what I have!" Dick grinned, bringing his arms in front of him with a flourish. He was holding two waffle cones, both filled with chocolate ice cream.

Her eyes widened. "Alfred's homemade?"

"The one and only," Dick replied, winking as he handed her a cone. "He made it especially for the occasion."

Barbara laughed, nibbling at the cone as they sat at an empty table. "Remind me to tell him thanks."

"I will," Dick said, taking a lick. He leaned in towards his girlfriend, their lips meeting gently.

"Happy anniversary, Babs."

* * *

**Eh, not very pleased with this chap. Oh welllll!**


	3. Loss

**AN:**

**I am on a rolllllll. Came up with this one in record timing; 15 mins ;)**

**Review please! Btw, it's slightly AU because Kaldur is dead :((((((((**

**~Zara**

* * *

_Dick felt himself hyperventilate as he put out a trembling hand to rest on Barbara's face._

_Nonononono not her not her not her-_

_The mantra repeated in his head as he tenderly cradled the body of his love._

_-there was too much red, too much, too much leaking from her chest, her head, same shade as her hair and staining her lips, good god there's too much-_

_"BARBARA!" Dick screams, voice sounding almost inhuman with grief. "No, NO! Barbara! Babs, talk to me, c'mon! Please, say something!"_

_But her eyes are shut under the lens-less cowl and she's not moving not breathing not talking not alive-_

* * *

Dick wakes with a scream in his throat, body jerking. He can't tell where he is but it's dark and he's in a bed.

He's still screaming, not fully awake, as a lamp is flicked on. Someone else is with him.

"-Dick, shh! You're okay, sweetheart, it was just a nightmare!"

He feels arms around him as someone sits him up and stops screaming as he recognizes the voice of his girlfriend. He pants into her collarbone, body shaking.

"Shh," Barbara says softly, a hand on the top of his head and other on his back, and Dick realizes he's crying. "It was just a nightmare, love."

Dick can't muster the air to respond, instead keeping quiet and letting the night's events come back to him.

He remembers coming to Gotham to help Batman, Robin, and Batgirl with a large drug bust. He remembers thinking they had beaten all the thugs when another one had popped up with a gun trained on Barbara. He remembers jumping in front of her and taking the shot to his leg for her; that more than explains the dull, throbbing pain in his left calf and the drip in his arm connecting to a blood bag and another one of saline.

"You took a bullet for me, sweetheart," Barbara says now, talking over Dick's stifled sobs. "We're at Leslie's clinic; Bruce left to take Tim home."

She waits for Dick's sobs to die down and when they don't, she purses her lips with concern, squeezing him tighter. "Dick, what-?"

"You d-died," Dick manages to stutter. "Y-you died and it w-was my f-fault-"

"Dick," Barbara breathes, rocking him a bit. "It was a dream, I'm fine-"

"But what if you're not one day?" Dick whispers, cries slowing down significantly. "What if y-you're not and I l-lose you-" Another sob wretches from his chest and he squeezes sapphire eyes shut.

"W-what if I lose you, Barb?" he sobs, hands clenching onto Barbara's black sweatshirt. "What if I l-lose you l-like my family and Tula and Kal and J-Jason?"

She doesn't know how much of this is Dick speaking and how much is because of the pain meds but Barbara's expression saddens nonetheless. "Dick, you- I- you know I can take care of myself-" she begins, slow and gentle.

"So could they," he whispers forlornly. He takes a slow breath, trying to stem his tears.

He doesn't know why this thought hasn't hit him before; that he could lose Barbara as Batgirl in Gotham and he wouldn't even know, wouldn't be there. It hits him like a heavy weight now, though, and it hurts so badly.

Because if he hadn't been there tonight, the thug would have shot her, around her pelvic area, an easily fatal shot. Bruce had been too far away and Tim had been engaged in a spar. She wouldn't have had time to dodge.

Barbara squeezes Dick again and presses a kiss on the top of his hair. "I know," she says, voice still gentle. "But please, Dick, trust me. I'll be fine, alright? Don't worry about me all the time."

She lays him down, bringing the kicked-away sheets back over his chest. "You need to rest," she says, smoothing his bangs off his forehead. "You lost almost two pints of blood."

She must have injected more morphine into his IV bag at some point because Dick feels his eyes slowly shutting. He doesn't even bother to complain, instead groping for Barbara's hand.

"Don' 'eave," he slurs, lids coming down to cover blue orbs. She smiles, kissing his forehead.

"I won't. You won't be losing me anytime soon, Short Pants."

And for how, her word is enough.

* * *

**Felt like this was too fast moving but eh whatevs.**


	4. Snowstorm

**AN:**

**Really sorry, but this is exactly the same as one of my drabbles from the 30-day Prompts series. It's all I could come up with because I have an AP essay to be focusing on. **

**Please review!**

**~Zara**

* * *

Barbara turned off the bathroom light, toweling her hair dry. She yawned, draping the towel onto the back of the desk chair.

Quietly, as to not wake her sleeping boyfriend, she walked over to the dresser and brushed out her damp hair, fighting to keep her eyes open.

She'd had an exhausting week; college plus vigilant nighttime activities did not make for a dull workday. Her patrols with Batman for the week had lasted even longer than usual; it had been three in the morning when they had wrapped up and the drive from Gotham to Dick's and hers apartment in Blüdhaven was almost an hour long. She was way overdue for some shut eye.

Setting the brush back down, she made her way over to the bed and slipped under the blankets, feeling content in her favorite flannel pants and Gotham Knights t-shirt. She snuggled up beside her boyfriend and pressed a kiss to his forehead before blissfully falling asleep.

* * *

Barbara woke up to the cringe-worthy sound of curtains being yanked open, the rings scraping against the rod. She groaned, turning over to press her face into the pillow.

"Barbara! Babs! Babs, Babs, Babs!" cried an excited voice.

Barbara moaned, sitting up and flipping her mass of red hair over her shoulder. She peels her eyes open, wincing in the bright winter light. "What?" she grunted, squinting in the direction of the male voice.

A pair of snowpants and her favorite teal parka hit her in the face in reply.

"It's snowing!" Dick said in a sing-song voice, drawing out the last word. If Barbara could see clearly, she would have seen that he was already wearing a ski jacket, snow pants, a hat and gloves, and bulky boots. "C'mon, get up, get up!"

He bounds forward, movement restricted by all the winter garb he's wearing, and takes her hands. He yanks her out of bed and onto her feet in one fluid motion.

Sleepily, the gymnast grabbed the cold weather gear Dick had thrown at her as he led her out of the bedroom.

"-and have hot cocoa with the cute little marshmallows and make snowmen and- oh! Maybe Arty and Wally and Zee can come and we can go to the café and go sledding and-"

Barbara let out a mix of a sigh and another groan as Dick continued to babble on.

Sometimes, she wonders if he's still thirteen-years-old.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**~Zara**


End file.
